


Unlikely Fan

by trashbean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom Lucio?, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Sex, First Time, M/M, it's mostly just my first attempt at Overwatch writing, its like two plot chapters for every one porn one, plot with some porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7007224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashbean/pseuds/trashbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lúcio gets himself caught up in a chase through the city and somehow finds himself with a new fan. Things spiral into weird places soon after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most likely this will turn into porn with a developed plot. 
> 
> I have no more explanation for doing this beyond I enjoy this entirely random pairing.

A late night talk show was playing on TV, with the news on the screen-in-screen, when a deep rumbling vibrated through the floor of the hotel room. Lucio, lying across the width of the bed with his chin in his hand, blinked heavily and tried to puzzle out whether it was real. He was exhausted from the plane ride, and had been drifting off moments earlier.  
But another two came in quick succession, and after a few seconds of straining he picked up the sound of distant and rapid popping.  
“What-?”   
He pulled himself to the edge of the bed and rolled to his feet, hurrying across the plush carpet so he could yank aside the gossamer curtain and let the glow of the inner city penetrate the room. There was nothing happening on the street below, including traffic. Considering the endless life of the city, it was worrying to see no cars or pedestrians.   
He took a few slow steps back, hesitating to see if anything else might happen. Nothing did, but he turned to the TV and brought up the news, knowing the little red 'Breaking News' banner wasn't a coincidence.  
As the small rectangle stretched itself across the entirety of the wide screen, the chattering of show hosts cut out and was replaced by the firm and worried voice of the news anchor, an aging woman with a pretty face and a ballerina bun.  
“-people are advised to stay indoors, and if possible to evacuate the Metro area. Citizens are also advised to not engage the suspects under any circumstance.”  
Those last words caught the edge of his notice and were promptly ignored as he hurried into an adjacent room, where his mechanical and sonic gear was safely stored. He was on his way to play a show, but he'd become so accustomed to the weaponry's necessity that he never went anywhere without it. For once, the hassle of packing it around was worth it.  
Suited up in record time, Lucio yanked open the balcony door and, with a reverberating hum, powered up in time to catch his skates on the painted brick wall. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but let out a whoop as he glided past the 60-or-so floors, crouched low and gaining speed until windows were whipping past. Skimming across the metal awning of the neighbouring building, he slowed himself enough to let momentum carry him safely onto the street.   
He didn't know these streets well, but he made use of the elevated train line knowing it was a sure-shot to the action. Sirens and sporadic gunfire helped guide his way.  
Hopping the track, he pulled the Sonic Amplifier from where it was holstered, making the necessary attachments as he arched around the back of an empty bus and tore down Main Street. From the way the sounds shifted, it sounded like a car chase—he focused, realized they were some blocks east, and darted down a side street with his weapon primed and ready.   
A fact that ended up saving his life. The sounds grew rapidly closer until he could see flashing lights on the next street over; hoping to intersect the pursuing officers, he swung down another street and came out ahead of the police cars just in time for his heart to almost stop.  
It felt like a long few seconds as those round explosives curved through the air and whistled towards him, and another second longer for him to raise the gun and fire off a pulse that sent them hurtling haphazardly away from both himself and the vehicles bearing on either side of him. They hit the walls of the surrounding buildings, the explosions mercifully small but still sending dust and debris raining down onto the street.  
He got a brief glimpse of what they chased before it disappeared around a corner, and he had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that it seemed to be a minivan. Another explosive round hurtled over their heads and blasted away a large chunk of sidewalk. A moment later, it became clear what they were aiming at.  
Lucio cried out in a vain attempt to warn the police as a sign came crashing down towards them, massive and spanning the width of the road. It and all of it's metal supports would have been catastrophic had he not fired another concussive blast and sent it further up the street. They had a chance to stop, at least, but the suspects pulled away.   
Out of the nearest car, one of the cops clamoured. Before the man could do anything, though, Lucio waved him down and spoke as fast as he could.  
“I'll go after them. Find a way around.”  
His heart was thundering as he scaled the rubble and set back on the trail, excitement and anxiety prickling at his neck. Fortunately, his target hadn't left the road, but they had gained a lot of headway and he had to push hard to try and catch up. The mechanics in his lower armour whirred tirelessly, his skates leaving momentary streaks of light in his wake. He only had to get in range before bringing them to a halt.  
The frags had stopped, but he couldn't spare a moment to figure out why. Adrenaline drove him on, sweat hugged his hairline, and he toed a dangerous line by pushing himself to a speed that would rough him up pretty damn bad if he made the wrong movement. But it paid off.  
Just as the van took another corner, he drew close enough to raise his weapon and fire. The green pulse rocketed and expanded towards them, hitting the side of the van and sending it careening off the road. It's back end hit the edge of a wall, sending it spinning and sinking out of sight. He blinked, bringing himself to a stop that nearly had his ass hitting the asphalt behind him. Where-?  
A parking garage. Lucky for them or they might have been crushed. Lucio hesitated long enough to remind himself how dangerous this was, before following the wrecked van underground.  
It was nowhere in sight, but a layer of smoke clung to the ceiling and dimmed the jarring orange lights. It led him through a maze of stalls to where the van was stopped out in the open. Most likely it had died before they could go any further, as the doors were open and the seats empty. But he moved warily, overly aware of every minute sound his gear made as he used the thick round pillars as flimsy cover. No one fired on him as he made his way around the van, both hands gripping the pulse gun, but as soon as he moved two feet past the front bumper he heard a familiar whistle and darted forward without looking for where it came from. He heard the frag bounce three times before exploding and shaking dust from the ceiling.  
Honing in on some muttered curses, he tightened his face into a glare and shot forward recklessly, crossing the distance between himself and the shadows in a matter of seconds and colliding heavily with something that could only be a person.  
“Ah, shit!”  
Lucio toppled and rolled, bearing them to the ground but unable to keep them pinned. Through the smoke and erratic shadows, he struggled to gain his bearings and resorted to desperately lifting his weapon again. He squeezed the trigger as his arm rose, but through an unfortunate coincidence the gun knocked the other person in the head and got them out of the way of the blast.   
“Ow! Damn it!”  
He didn't see what happened, but the gun was yanked from his hand and forcefully detached from the apparatus, leaving Lucio high and dry in a dark corner. He had to fix that. With one foot pushing the wall behind him, he forced himself into the person again and sent both of them back out of the secluded stall and into the smoky light.   
They scrambled more than grappled, both concerned with getting back to their feet. Lucio did so first, the other man seeming to struggle awkwardly with one side of him. A peg leg.   
“You're under arrest,” Lucio huffed, sounding more confident than he felt.  
“Ow,” was the only response he got, a low groan muffled behind a hand.   
“Don't m-”  
“The Hell?” mumbling, the other person turned towards him and took a hobbling step forward, “You ain't no pig, mate.”  
“No. But when they get here-”  
“Aren't you that famous fella?”   
Lucio blinked, face twitching into a frown before he glanced over at his gun. He could make it over there in a quick moment, but the strange (and apparently Australian) man was cradling a hefty frag launcher. If he fired, there was no way Lucio would get out of the way.  
“You are! Ah, mate, I've seen you all over magazines and junk!” he took another step, long face lighting up with the realization. He looked like he rolled around in a scrap heap to get dressed in the morning, and his blond, dusty hair stuck up in a ridiculous number of angles.   
“Never had to fight a celebrity before.” There was a moment of hesitation, where his voice dropped uncertainly low, “That's a lot of pressure.”  
A small hope popped into Lucio's head and he lifted his hands up in a placating gesture, “We don't have to fight. It can end here. The cops are on their way, it doesn't have to get any messier. My name is Lucio, what's yours?”  
“Junkrat. If you're workin' with the coppas, I'm surprised ya didn't know.”  
“I, uh... Jumped in last minute. Junkrat, just put that thing down and nobody has to get hurt.”  
“See, I dunno about that. I'm not lettin' them take me, mate. I got a good thing going. And I think you and me both know I'm gettin' away one way or another.”  
At the word 'another' he shifted the launcher in his hands and held it more securely. “Besides, I got other things to worry about,” he glanced over his shoulder worriedly, finger stroking across the trigger anxiously.   
“But you're right. It doesn't have to get any messier. I'll stop my thievin' around here and leave quietly, slip out the back way without any more excitement, under one condition.”  
Lucio knew he had no ground to stand on when he tried that angle, but it was still disheartening for it to fail. He didn't focus on that, though, just looked at Junkrat warily and waited.  
“I want tickets to ya next show,” Junkrat beamed crookedly, showing a gold tooth. “Front row, backstage, all that VIP treatment!”  
“Seriously?” Lucio didn't know how to react to that. It was definitely a new one. “Why?”  
“Everybody wants to feel like a rockstar every now and then.”  
“You want me to let you go after everything you've done, and then you want me to give you seats and the VIP treatment. Why should I?”  
“Everything I've done,” Junkrat rolled his eyes dramatically, “Didn't hurt no one, did I? I wasn't aimin' bad out there, ya know! We just took some stuff from people who already got a lot of stuff, who's that hurt, really?”  
Silence descended on them and Lucio could only stare with a look of irritation and disbelief. Junkrat's eyebrows were slowly and expectantly lifting towards his jagged hairline.   
“Well? No more robbery, no pigs cooked, no pretty singer boys turned to ash, and all it costs are some nice seats. Maybe a fur coat to wear backstage.”  
“Why do you think you have any leeway here?” Lucio burst out, tossing his hands to the side and scoffing with just as much drama as Junkrat's eyeroll. The other man's mouth stretched back into a grin and his voice dropped low and dangerous.  
“'cause I don't hear no sirens, mate.”  
Well, damn if he wasn't right. If they hadn't gotten close by then they were likely looking in the wrong area. He was alone down here with Junkrat and his frags and his ridiculous demands.  
“You haven't hurt anybody?” Lucio spoke uncertainly, eyeing the pulse gun one more time before deciding once and for all that it wasn't going to happen. “And you won't come back?”  
“Well I clocked one guy over the head, but he's probably fine.” Junkrat waved away Lucio's deepening frown and continued, “I'll be out of the city before ya know it. Take half the haul I meant to and keep my little treasures to m'self.”  
As Junkrat affectionately patted the side of his weapon, Lucio mulled over his choices. He didn't want to let him go. He couldn't—shouldn't—ignore the crimes he'd committed here. But he wasn't a cop, and this seemed like a safest option when he didn't know just what Junkrat was willing to do. He had definitely aimed to kill when he was cornered.  
“Fine...” he agreed begrudgingly, letting his displeasure show openly on his face, “But tell me, how do you know that I won't set you up? I could tell the authorities you'll be there.”  
Junkrat just smiled and shrugged, cheeks rounded and mood unaffected.   
Another silence settled on them, stretching out for an uncomfortably long time before Lucio balked in the face of this bizarre situation and mumbled his final answer. “I'll leave them at the stadium's ticket desk. What name?”  
“Huh?”  
“They'll need to know who you are if you want to get them. Just... pick a random name.”  
“Ha, right! Uh... Jamie.”  
Lucio narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the frag launcher. Junkrat seemed to know what he was thinking and finally lowered it, shooting him what the other man undoubtedly thought was a winning smile. It was toothy and sly instead of charming.  
“Seeya 'round, superstar.”


	2. Backstage Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the nerve-wracking performance arrives, and Lucio has to deal with the tumultuous consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos! I'm having a lot of fun with them! <3

Music in any form could set Lucio's soul on fire, but nothing felt quite the same as performing live. The bass pounded deep into the heart of the stadium, coursing up his legs until his heart felt like it beat in time with the heavy rhythm. His hands deftly glided across and manipulated the board, built from adjusted sonic technology and casting a green glow up his arms and chest. That same technology brought the show to life around him, the light effects ethereal and pulsing, ghosting across the writhing crowd in frantic waves.   
But even with the familiar satisfaction, his mind kept curving off to a less fun place. When there was a lull in his motions, he would chance a look into the crowd and towards some of the nearest seats. He marvelled at his ability to focus on two very distracting things at once, as he gave as good a performance as he could while simultaneously fretting over the decision he had made right before the show.   
He had intended to inform security of their special guest, even when guilt gnawed at his chest. But as he had meant to do just that, he wondered whether it was possible to approach it from a different angle. Lucio was a man of change, it was what he built his career out of. Positive change. Betterment. He tried to speak to people through his music and inspire them, and the bleeding heart in him had kept him from saying a word to the head of his security crew. They were good, better than the police would have been in this situation. They had to be, with the kind of people Lucio had made enemies of. He trusted their ability to detain the explosive criminal... But what good was one more man in jail? If he made it there.  
So, he had warned no one. He alone knew that he'd invited such a dangerous person to a stadium full of people and- oh God, he'd done that. God.  
He looked again, but the seat was still empty. The song simmered out, then the next one flared up and he adjusted where he stood to play with a different part of the board. One more glance, then he threw himself into the song with all his energy, arm pumping and voice mingling sporadically with the steady thumping beat. It had been an hour, and that seat had been empty the whole time.  
Over and over he had looked, had worried and second guessed himself, and over and over it had been empty. Until it wasn't.   
That look had been one of chance, his head happening to turn that way to reach for a smaller soundboard, when he noticed the seat had been filled. It took him all the moments he could spare to look and determine whether or not it was Junkrat, a ball cap and the shifting shadows making it hard to see at first. But a well aimed lance of light illuminated the grinning face for a quick second and there was nobody else it could be.   
His heart skipped in a way that had nothing to do with having fun, and all sorts of scary scenarios flashed through his head at once. Unfortunately, he'd made the mistake of trying to find out whatever he could about this person and what he'd found had been very, very enlightening. He forcefully reminded himself that there was extra levels of security just to get to those seats, that there was no way he could have brought so much as a lighter in with him. Still, he was grateful for the coming intermission because he felt an extra layer of sweat form just from looking at the other man.

Half an hour. He had half an hour to steel himself for the final half of the concert and decide how to handle everything that would follow. Lucio exchanged pleasantries with the backstage crew as he made for the box he had, uncharacteristically, set aside for himself. He never made demands, only humoured the assistants who badgered him for food orders and other comforts for his dressing room. But this time, he had made a special request and cited his desire to watch the intermediary performers.   
In reality, this box was directly behind and above the row of seats that Junkrat was now in. When he stepped into it, he took a moment to frown at the plush couches and excessive luxuries. On top of the massive window, there were two wide-screen TVs showing the stage. Frivolous.   
They stayed off and Lucio moved to the window, having to scan the rows before he spotted him. He only did because he wore the same ratty camouflage pants and had thrown his good leg over the back of the chair in front of him. Lucio's skin prickled nervously when he noticed something clutched in his hands, but it turned out to be a cup from the concession.  
VIP treatment, that's what he'd asked for. He should have a backstage pass and Lucio intended to be there for every moment he was inside the stadium. So far, he hadn't firmly decided whether he'd try and encourage reform in Junkrat or if he'd just grin and entertain him until he could have him out the doors as fast as possible. He had some hope that he might turn a dangerous person down a better path, and he really did want to do that, but there were so many unknown variables.   
Sighing, he ran both hands down his face and fell onto the couch, sinking into it and playing out scenarios in his head until they started to end up in some crazy places. While trying to make up his mind, one piercing thought wedged itself firmly into his head: he could still warn security.   
Junkrat was clearly unarmed, it was unlikely anybody would be hurt if they were to surprise him and take him into custody. And while he could help one man by saying nothing, he could also endanger many more... He glanced down at Junkrat for the tenth time, and sighed heavily.  
The Australian was tapping his foot in time with the music, head shifting from side-to-side in a way that suggested that awkward dance people did in their seats. Lucio felt like a monumental ass.  
Junkrat had come here, unarmed, to watch the show because he expected Lucio would let him. And here he was, thinking of turning him over so that he was out of Lucio's hands. Geez...  
Alright! Lucio bumped his fist into his hand, shifting his focus to amping himself up. He was gonna try and help a dude today! And that started, as it always did, with music.

The set list was altered, taking a motivational and less corporately-negative turn. Not entirely, because that part was important too, but he had songs he felt touched more appropriately on his current predicament. It may have seemed silly, to go to that much of an effort, but he only had to remind himself that it wasn't just Junkrat he could help. He was sure there was some good in there somewhere, and if he didn't at least try then he was just unleashing him back on the world. Like one of those honey badger things put in with some guinea pigs.  
Surprisingly, Lucio went back on stage with renewed enthusiasm and determination, instead of anxious worrying. He raised his arms to the tune of an ecstatic, cacophonous roar. He loved that sound. His hype man shouted over the crowd, prompting even more excited screaming and stepping aside with a wide flourish for Lucio to retake his place.  
Lucio made sure to stay humble, but he could never deny that he liked the attention. The advantageous position he gained in the social movement was by far the most important part of his DJing, but damn did he enjoy the attention. With a deep breath, he looked towards Junkrat. Not just a glance, a proper look and an acknowledgement that he was there. Lucio grinned.   
Junkrat's reaction was lost in the dimming of the lights, but it didn't matter. Lucio wanted him to know he was noticed; Lucio himself didn't need validation.  
The rest of the show was a blur, and Lucio did more singing than he was used to. Just a couple of verses every other song, but it was still a bit embarrassing. He knew he COULD sing, and it garnered an excessively positive response from his fans, but he felt a little hot under the collar afterwards.   
The finale was spectacular, the best of the light show saved for the loudest and fastest of his songs, the one that always turned his arms to noodles when he was done. The crowd's screams could have shook the stadium to rubble, and Lucio's head was one fire with the infectious, pounding fever.  
There was the obligatory encore, the one that held the political message he knew they wanted to soak up. Then he left the stage sweating and breathing heavy, grinning from ear to ear and absolutely pumped to tackle Junkrat.   
He made his way to the wide, white hallway that lead from the interior of the stadium to the restricted areas. People were already cramped into the entrance of it, held at bay by a red rope and an intimidating woman. She wore small shorts and a belly shirt with his emblem on it, showing off strong arms and thighs that could kill a person. He'd always been to scared to openly admire them, even if she was friendlier than her work face let on.  
When they saw him, the hall was filled with eager cries for his attention, and he excitedly waved both hands as he made for them. On his way down from the stage, he'd been given a towel and a water bottle and he made good use of them before readying himself for the slew of autographs.   
He always enjoyed this, even if he was tired and not allowed to linger long. He got to have brief chats with the people who mattered most in all this, see them happy and hear what they thought about the content of his music. That part he liked best.  
But it was short lived and he was shuffled away for a short breather. Usually he'd have more people backstage, but today had been a special circumstance for obvious reasons. As it was, it would be only one and Lucio needed to give himself a few minutes before embarking on THAT adventure.  
It turned out it really was only a few minutes, Lucio barely having enough time to change in his dressing room before someone was knocking on the door. He considered telling them to come in, but opted for going to open it instead. One of the security detail stood there, a small frown in place.  
“There's someone waiting for you. All he's said is that you recently got him on his back.”  
“What..?”  
“There was a lot of vulgar eyebrow wiggling, it was uncomfortable for everyone.”  
Lucio could only stare with a blank face, before slowly stepping back into his room to put his boots on. He checked in the mirror to make sure he didn't look too overworked and shiny, then joined the man in the hall to be led to where his guest waited. It was an area designated for backstage visits with the bands that played here, with couches and a table of food, but it was occupied by only one person. Lucio could see someone else standing on the other side of the doorway on the far side of the room.  
“Usually a lot busier,” the security guard muttered with open curiosity, but Lucio just smiled and shrugged. Stepping into the room, Lucio had to stifle a snort when Junkrat turned to face him. He was wearing a leather jacket that was a little too bulky for his frame and looked like it came from the back of a thrift store rack. Underneath he was still shirtless, and the ball cap was one of the ones from the merchandise stand in the stadium lobby.  
“You came.”  
“Free tickets, mate. Shit coffee, though.”  
Lucio took a seat and gestured for him to do the same, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together as he set curious eyes on Junkrat. He seemed to have made an attempt to clean himself up, but it didn't have much impact.   
“What did you think?”  
Junkrat had fallen into the other couch and draped himself across it like a model. Hobo couture. He looked a lot longer than he seemed when they'd been standing across from each other. Lucio had to admit, he was a little pleased when the strange guy lit up and nodded.  
“Loved it! Loud. Like explosions goin' off right in m'chest, just, boom boom boom. Coulda had more pyrotechnics, though. Lazers are bad for ya eyes.”  
“It's not really 'fire' music,” Lucio shifted about in his seat, cocking an eyebrow.   
Junkrat just grunted and took a look around, eyeing all the framed photos and decades worth of concert posters that covered the walls.   
“Thought you'd have a ton of groupies back here. Figure chicks are clamouring to be your headphones—oho, snacks!”  
Lucio had a moment to puzzle out what that meant as Junkrat swung his legs around and got to his feet, peg leg tapping across the laminate as he loomed towards the food table with wiggling fingers.  
“I don't really do the groupie thing. I usually just have fans back here to talk and stuff.”  
“Y'don't get laid?” Junkrat asked around cheeks full of meat slices, brows drawn low with skepticism.   
“Well,” Lucio blushed and ducked his head to hide it, rubbing the back of his neck, “Parties and stuff, sometimes. Not after a show, though, just not my thing.”  
“Parties, huh? Sounds excitin',” Junkrat hobbled back over, sitting next to Lucio this time and offering him a selection from his handful of snacks. Lucio waved him off with a smile.  
“Yeah. It's the high-life, I guess. I don't hold on to a whole lot of money, but getting invited to just about everything is a nice perk.”  
Junkrat was staring at him with his head drawn back and his face contorted into an expression that could only be described as pained confusion. When he spoke, it was low and uncomfortable, “What do you do with it?”  
“What?”  
“The money.”  
“Oh... I donate it or funnel back into my home town to help the people there. I mean,” he chuckled and drew his shoulders up towards his ears, “I did spoil myself with a house and a car, but other than that, its for the people.”  
“But,” Junkrat hesitated, voice dropping even lower, “You're people. So you could just... keep it.”  
“I don't want to.”  
Junkrat's face just got more screwed up, head tilting like he was looking at something from another planet. “Ya don't want to.”  
“No, I don't. I give it to people who need it.” Inspiration struck him and Lucio straightened his back, “You must need money, right?”  
“Ya think?”  
He made a point not to mention the other man's current appearance, and just gave a quick nod, “In my experience, people resort to crime out of necessity, right?”  
“Uh,” Junkrat leaned away and glanced to the side, eyes wide, “Nah. I actually got a shitload of cash.”  
Lucio didn't know what to do with that information. Though, honestly, he should have known better because nobody earned a $25,000,000 bounty through petty crime. The weirdest thing hit him, though, a very strange and unimportant anger.  
“You could have just bought the ticket!”  
Junkrat started cackling, a shrill and wheezing sound, and clapped metal hand to metal knee with unabashed glee. “Right, though?!” His laugh turned nasally, then tapered off into an amused sigh.  
When he noticed Lucio's glare, he gave a limp-wristed wave of his hand, “Didn't mean I'd get back here, though. Told ya I wanted to feel like a rock star. Speakin' of... this isn't very rock star.”  
“I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you,” Lucio said with only a touch of bitterness. It wasn't the lost money, it was the principle.   
“Ha, yeah? What about?”  
“You.”  
“Oh,” Junkrat frowned and scratched at his chin, “Well. I'm a Gemini. I like drives through the countryside and I light fires for fun. Wait, am I your groupie today?”  
“No, I-”  
“What happened to online datin'? Resortin' to high speed chases to meet somebody... You must be desperate.”  
Lucio knew he was blushing, but he viciously fought his ingrained automatic response of hiding his face. His plan was very much off course already and he couldn't back down, he had to get it back on track.   
“That's not what I was doing, and that's not why you're here.”  
“Oh.”  
Another thing he wasn't sure how to interpret. Junkrat had been lounging, but sat up straighter and gave Lucio a contemplative look from the corner of his eye. It took a long moment of deciphering, before Lucio's eyes widened and his eyebrows arched.  
“Is that what you were hoping for?”  
Junkrat snorted loudly, lip curling up to show that gold tooth. “I came here for drugs and sex ladies, obviously. I don't have ya album already or nothin'.”  
“See, you saying that makes me think you're lying.”  
“Well I'm not!”  
Lucio shifted about so he had one leg up on the couch and was facing Junkrat properly, the other man having pressed into the other corner of the couch with his shoulders drawn up and his face heavily lined with displeasure.  
“Did you know who I was when you met me?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Did you already know my music..?”  
“Yeah, so?!”  
“Are you... are you a fan?” Lucio was grinning despite himself, barely able to hold in his surprised laughter. He never would have thought that someone like this would be a fan of his!  
“I'm not exactly pro-establishment either, ya know! Suits do nothin' but screw everyone over, right? And, I dunno... Ya music was on a player I nicked and I liked it. Nothin' other than that!”  
“Again, it's not necessary to say something like that unless its a thing,” Lucio was trying to speak passively and not sound accusatory, but he still found this very funny.  
“It's nothin' else! Not some girl clippin' magazines and shit.”  
“There's no reason to be embarrassed,” Lucio said calmly, holding his hands up and giving the sweetest smile he had, “Everyone's a fan of something. You just happen to be a fan of me. And saw an opportunity to get backstage and be my groupie. There is nothing at all embarrassing about a hardened criminal doing something like that.”  
Junkrat's brows were a low, flat line and he looked anything but pleased. The dam that was Lucio's self control was starting to break, small giggles sneaking through the cracks as he rubbed at his nose to cover the grin.  
Finally, getting himself back under control, Lucio looked Junkrat over with a wistful and contemplative look. He'd gotten an invasive thought, one he probably shouldn't entertain. He was always a sucker for danger, and even when he was humiliated and irritated, Junkrat exuded a messy kind of danger. And Lucio was always a passionate person; the possibility for intimacy was one he was hard-pressed to ignore.  
“So, are you going to admit it?”  
“What part?” Junkrat growled, adjusting the ball cap with Lucio's frog logo embroidered across the front in an artfully tilted angle.  
“That you want to be my groupie,” Lucio shuffled forward and Junkrat's mood shifted instantly to one of surprise. “You got all the way backstage, so here's your chance.”  
“Ya sayin' I have one..?”  
Lucio blinked, the shyness in those croaky words being the last thing he expected. So, it was true. This wasn't the first time someone had had those kind of intentions, but if anything he expected extortion or something along those lines.  
But he took it in stride, leaning one arm on the back of the couch, “Yeah.” Personality and moral reform didn't have to happen RIGHT away. His heart was fluttering, excitement stirring underneath his lungs as Junkrat sat up straight and looked Lucio in the eye. Fierce orange, what a weird colour...   
“Guess it's true, then. I'm a fan.”  
“And?” Lucio took enjoyment in Junkrat's embarrassed squirming, sly smile spreading across his face as the other man lowered his eyes to the couch in between them and spoke quietly and through a thickened accent.  
“And I want to play groupie. Just this once!”  
“Of course.”  
“So...”   
This was insane. There was still that small prickle of fear at the back of his neck, but it was overpowered by the surprising fact that he was very eager to do this, even if it came out of nowhere. You know, why COULDN'T he enjoy this every now and then?  
He heard a quiet click and glanced over to see the door had been closed. Most likely, the security guard had read the mood and opted to give them privacy. They must have seen so much in this job.  
That was that, then. Lucio didn't have any more to say about it. He lifted himself and moved closer, ended up in the Australian's lap so he could plant kisses down his tense neck. The soft gesture forced out a shuddering breath, and his long-fingered hand came up to rest on Lucio's hip.  
“See? Perks to being a fan, Junkrat.”  
“Jamie.”  
Lucio pulled his head back just enough to see the side of his face. Junkrat was chewing viciously on his lower lip, brows pulled together, with just the faintest hint of red on his cheeks and nose.   
“Y'can call me Jamie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut next chapter, when I'm awake enough to write it decently.


	3. Groupie (Pure Porn chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio decides to indulge in the perks of fame just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just smut, so it can be skipped if you aren't interested in the sex parts.

A guitar heavy song crackled from the wall-mounted speakers, the singer doing a fine job of moulding his voice into something appealing despite sounding as though he gargled with whisky. Beyond the vibrant yellow walls, the ambient din of the arena was muffled but constant, and barely noticed under the short huffs sounding rhythmically in Lucio's ear.  
They were strange, restrained sounds, but Lucio did whatever he could to pull more of them from the lanky blond beneath him. Junkrat—Jamie—was slouched into the corner of the seat with his hands nervously rubbing across Lucio's hips, his neck under attack by the smaller man's mouth.   
Lucio was anxious himself, an uncertain tremble sliding down his back every time he shifted his position or let his fingers wander too close to Jamie's already-low waistband. But the other man looked as though he might pass out, so at least Lucio felt braver by comparison. He wondered, once or twice, whether Jamie was having second thoughts, but every time he took his lips away from the overworked skin of the criminal's neck, Jamie tilted his head enticingly.  
He bit down and earned himself a groan for his efforts, gently kissing the mark he'd left before lifting his head and offering a smile. It was meant to be sultry, but he could just feel it come out shy. Jamie watched him through half-lidded eyes, the skin around them dark and lined with wear. He had likely never been called handsome, and Lucio was hard-pressed to imagine someone having crawled into his lap like this before, but with the way they were now, those manic, orange eyes looked predatory, and that ignited something fierce in the pit of Lucio's stomach. Junkrat's face was devoid of it's usual animation, his expression subdued and curious and a little bit flushed. He was quiet, barely moving beyond the unsteady rise and fall of his chest as he waited.  
“Is this ok?” Lucio mumbled, hands following the sharp curve of Jamie's hipbones. One stopped at his belt, the other continued lower to slowly palm at the other man's crotch.   
“Uh...”  
The hesitation brought Lucio to an immediate halt, mouth pulled back worriedly as he took his hand away. Quickly, shakily, Jamie grabbed it before it could go too far and pressed it back down against himself. Harder, covering Lucio's hand with his own and grinding a rough circle into his fly.  
“Y-Yeah, it's alright!” he giggled breathlessly, unruly brows drawn low over his eyes. His blush had grown, spreading to his ears so they burned a bright red. “I've just never done anythin' like this before.”  
Lucio chuckled and kept up the pace Jamie had set, all but purring as the Australian rutted weakly up against his hand with those same huffing breaths.   
“It's probably weird, getting into the whole groupie scene for the first time.”  
“Nah, I mean-” Jamie squirmed a little, head ducking down to hide whatever his face was doing, “At all like this. Any of it.”  
Lucio was smiling and rubbing away for a few long seconds after he spoke, then he froze again and his eyes widened with shock. “Sex..?”  
“Yeah. Haven't ever been kissed 'cept on my cheek. Not my face, either. Weird story...”  
“You're a virgin?” Lucio was sitting up straight, still processing the information and reevaluating his course of action. “I don't... Is this a good idea, then? I shouldn't-”  
“Wh- yeah! It's fine, right? It's all good,” Jamie was stammering, “I mean... who wouldn't want their first time ta be with a superstar, eh?”  
“Are you sure?” Lucio's heart was pounding, uncertainty wrestling furiously with the desire that had already been well sparked. He didn't put much stock on the antiquated concept of virginal purity, but it worried him to think someone might come to regret their first experience later on.  
“M'dick's hard, ain't it? When my mates ask, I'll have somethin' ta brag about. Not just pretty, but famous too,” he was chattering anxiously, trying to recover the situation before the moment slipped away completely. He didn't have to worry. Like a teenager, Lucio heard the word pretty and was weak.   
He dove on Jamie, mashing their lips together and grabbing his groin maybe a little harder than he intended to. But it was well met, Jamie immediately opening his mouth to let him in, and arching his hips off the couch to show that Lucio's rough touch was very much appreciated.   
Their tongues lashed against each other, Jamie's fumbling inexperience making the kiss messy and frantic. Lucio loved it. And he loved the way Jamie's hands inched down his hips, itching to reach around and grab. Always merciful, Lucio reached back to grab the other man's good hand and guide it around to his backside. Once there, Jamie was happy to squeeze and rub, inadvertently pulling Lucio closer until he could grind down against Junkrat. The junker's zipper was threatening to pop open, and the friction of their motions quickly awakened Lucio's matching erection. Doubt was gone, inhibition quickly on its tail.   
Lucio was drowning in the sensations, basking in every one no matter how strange it was in comparison to his usual trysts. The man didn't smell bad by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn't smell clean and that, somehow, excited the DJ further. Jamie, Junkrat, the Australian criminal was dangerous and unstable and dirty and, as he used Lucio's ass as leverage to erratically dry-hump, he was the sexiest thing Lucio had ever been on top of. He had a huge bounty and a violent past, he smelled faintly of gasoline and was made of taut, wiry muscle, he was an obvious threat to Lucio's safety if provoked, and he was a virgin. All of that crushed together to make Lucio melt into the other man's chest, hips rolling until Jamie matched his firm and steady rhythm.   
A few moments of that and Lucio could tell it was doing the trick, Jamie's breathing growing louder and more ragged as they pushed against the barrier of fabric between them. Something cocky bloomed in the back of Lucio's head, and he started mumbling against Jamie's ear, just to try and push him further. He had to test the waters, to see what revved Jamie's engine the most. Compliments did well, but the most satisfactory response came after a list of wistful desires, a lot of 'wants', and finally the breathy demand that Jamie take him.   
Lucio found himself hoisted off of Jamie before he fully registered what was happening, the other man behind him in an instant and pushing him, kneeling, against the back of the couch. When Jamie curled around him, it became very obvious just how much taller he was.   
For a few moments, Jamie humped against Lucio's ass like he was in heat, panting into the back of Lucio's shoulder and working at his fly with shaky hands. Lucio was grinning, arms crossed over the back of the couch and back curved to look as delectable as possible. It wasn't until Jamie's pants were open and his own were pulled down that he realized he'd let himself get caught up in how hot it was to drive someone to act like an animal.  
Jamie's hand was on his hip, shifting around to position himself through the haze of his arousal, when Lucio made a startled noise and started squirming.   
“Wait, wait! Lube!”  
“Huh?” Jamie's voice was low, only half focused. But he looked to where Lucio was pointing. There was a long set of decorative drawers against one wall, holding framed photos, a plant, and other paraphernalia from shows played there. The people that ran the establishment had been doing it long enough that they knew what they needed to stock.  
Regretfully, Jamie got off the couch and limped over to the drawers, glancing back at Lucio for further guidance before finding his prize and returning. But he stood hovering behind Lucio with a confused expression. It fought with the metaphoric drooling over seeing Lucio on full display like that. That gave Lucio a wonderful, evil idea.  
“Here,” he crooned, reaching back and waving his fingers until Jamie put the unopened bottle in his waiting hand. With only slight fumbling, Lucio managed to get it open and had to turn to look over the couch as he spread some liberally over his fingers. His stomach was doing flips and his face felt like it was on fire. Never, NEVER, had he done what he was about to do... He always liked to be in charge, and that meant not appearing vulnerable. But he fully believed that the man behind him would jump at whatever he said, no matter what position he put himself in.   
With only a brief hesitation, he reached back between his legs and rubbed the slowly warming liquid where it needed to be, lingering to savour the light tingles of pleasure before pushing a finger inside and teasing himself open.   
Behind him, Jamie let out a shuddering breath and Lucio had to force himself not to look back. He wanted to see his face, but eye contact would be giving him too much too soon. Deliberately, a second finger joined the first and he sped up until his motions were audible and he was quietly moaning into the back of the couch. When he'd watched similar displays himself, he thought they must have been playing it up a little. But no... no, there was something intensely exciting about this. About being surveyed and lusted after, about turning a grown man weak. Jamie sounded impatient.  
Lucio took his time, humming quietly and making sure he was nice and ready before pulling his fingers away. Junkrat was on him immediately, bony hips pressed tight against Lucio's ass and rolling until his dick slid between the cheeks and swiped up the excess lube.   
“Go slow,” the DJ mumbled, glancing back over his shoulder to see Junkrat licking at his lips like a hungry dog and clumsily trying to aim. It took him a moment to register Lucio's words, but he gave a twitchy nod and carefully pushed the head of his cock against and then passed Lucio's entrance.  
With a low groan, Lucio let his forehead drop against the cushion. Jamie wasn't huge—probably somewhere in the ballpark of average—but he felt like he stretched Lucio wider and wider as he edged his way in.   
Jamie, now balls deep inside his temporary lover, lay over Lucio's back and panted against his shoulder. He was swearing softly, pulling out painfully slow as though he couldn't bear the thought of not being completely engulfed in the smaller man. But the first thrust back in, a long and deep motion, made Lucio mewl and that was all the motivation Jamie needed.   
Again and again, he buried himself completely and wrapped both arms around Lucio's middle to ensure they were as close as possible. It was agonizing, in the best possible way. Every slow motion sent fire roaring through Lucio's body.   
He whispered for more, fingers digging into the couch. Jamie hesitated, swallowing heavily and stumbling over his words as he asked what Lucio wanted. As the Australian straightened, Lucio spread his legs further and bit down on his lip with a happy smile. He wanted it hard and deep, was what he said past shaky breaths. Junkrat dipped his hips, angling himself and grabbing Lucio's hips with one overly-warm hand and another, much colder and harder one.  
Then, without warning, he was pumping into Lucio with no restraint. He bottomed out with every thrust, until Lucio was wailing and completely euphoric, the pleasure hitting him like a hammer and bordering on overwhelming.   
When Lucio spoke, Jamie reacted perfectly. To every demand, every encouragement, and every enamoured compliment, he happily pushed to comply and out-do himself. When Lucio, lost to the raw pleasure, abandoned his filter and said every filthy thing that came to mind, Jamie growled and moaned. One knee (the good one) came up to rest on the couch, and at that moment Lucio was close to losing it. It was like being pounded with a jackhammer; the hard thrust of his hips was erratic and primal, and the sounds he made were barely human. Lucio only needed a little help from himself to rush towards his orgasm, hand wrapping around his cock and desperately pumping to match the feral pace that Junkrat set.   
His cries grew louder and more frantic, only quieted when he bit into the couch to muffle them. His whole body was taut, sweat beading and eyes fluttering closed as his climax loomed threateningly. He let go of the couch long enough to moan, “Jamie!”  
That was the final straw. Jamie heard that and bent forward, both hands grabbing onto the couch in a vice-grip. Lucio thought he'd reached his peak, but damn was he wrong; Jamie was looking to break him in half. But, despite how roughly he was treating Lucio's body, he spoke with the same hoarse and compliant demeanour.  
“S-Say it again,” he pleaded, the voice deep and intimidating but the words desperate and longing. Lucio could have purred.  
“Jamie,” he couldn't help the rising pitch in his voice, his own need shining through. “Jamie, I'm so close.” Junkrat whined, a long, low sound that vibrated against Lucio's back.  
Despite all the things he wanted to say, Lucio couldn't gather his wits fast enough. His dick was throbbing in his hand and he could only mumble 'yes' over and over until he was forced over the edge and came all over the couch cushion. For all the noise he had made before, he was left breathless and speechless by the world-shaking waves of ecstasy that threatened to pull him under and drown him.  
Jamie, who had said little and kept his pleasure to a reasonable volume, flipped his switch as well and howled as Lucio's walls tightened around him and, with a few more ferocious thrusts, milked his orgasm from him.   
Lucio was a mess by the time Junkrat had the wherewithal to pull out, forehead resting against Lucio's shoulder and hot breath rolling against the DJ's wet skin. His hole ached, both from the abuse and to be filled again, and he was sinking down onto his knees as his strength left him. With a whimper, he slid until he could lie down and roll onto his back, arms over his head and his face the picture of bliss.   
Jamie shakily lowered himself to the floor and stretched his legs out, jumping with surprise when Lucio's hand came up to play with his hair but ultimately submitting to the affection with a tired sigh.  
“Oi...”  
“You ok?”  
“That hole of yours nearly crushed my damn dick.”  
Lucio laughed and put an arm over his eyes, embarrassment hitting him strongly now that the rush of sex wasn't there to chase it away. Vulgarity wasn't something he toyed with much outside the thrill of the bedroom.   
“Sorry.”  
“I ain't complainin', darl.”


End file.
